


Bath Time

by Audriss



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bath Sex, Bethyl Smut Week, Body Worship, Could Be Canon, Could be alternate universe, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Love, Sex, Slight teasing, Smuff!, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, This Is Smuffy!, Vaginal Fingering, Very Mild Female Dominance, You Can See It If You Squint Your Eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audriss/pseuds/Audriss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth tries to relax, but her sore back and muscles are giving her hard time (pun unintended). Daryl refuses to allow her to get up from the tub before she is fully relaxed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bath Time

The tub is filled with hot water to the brim, and the water swirls idly around as Beth moves her arm absentmindedly, trying to find a better position to sit on, and actually relax in the rare luxury of a self-made bubble bath. She had been inventive enough with the ingredients she had mixed into her hot bath water. 

Wiggling her fingers a little, drawing circles onto the surface of the water, she stretches her arms and legs as much as possible in the confines of the bath tub. She had poured baking soda, Epsom salt, body oil and a tiny drop of eucalyptus oil into the bath water. There’s really no foam in the tub. 

The bathroom is lit with candles, and the scent of eucalyptus floats in the air. She sighs, her tongue brushing against her lips in deep concentration, and then she shifts herself yet again. Finding a good position seems to be just too much right now. No matter what way she sits in the tub, she is feeling extremely uncomfortable. Her back had clearly signed off their agreement of cooperation and mutual assistance.

Wiggling her butt a little, she sits up and stretches her feet, throwing rather than sliding her arm over the edge of the tub, feeling and hearing the water sloshing about and spill on the floor. She looks down, at the floor, sighs and wishes she just had never thought of the bath in the first place. She had tried to be careful with the water, because she didn’t want to end up cleaning it.

Biting her bottom lip, and sighing very deeply, knowing that the floor is now slippery from the water and body oil mixture and she wouldn’t be able to get out of the bathtub on her own, she glances at the closed door.

_So much for relaxation_ , she thinks meekly and grunts audibly when she tries to pull herself up from the bottom of the tub. Groaning more, she realizes that it was a lost cause trying to get on her own, and that makes her give up quickly and pout. Her fingertips aren’t even pruny yet, and she doesn’t want to get out of the tub, but all she can think is that this was a stupid thing to do in the first place. She can’t help it, and she has to get out of the tub because sitting in it is just making her more and more uncomfortable.

“Daryl?” she calls out loud, tentatively. But there’s only silence. 

“Daryl?” she calls out again, this time louder. And this time she hears footsteps approaching almost too silently to hear, and it makes her sigh, relieved. The door creaks open and she smiles almost innocently as Daryl peeks in, “Yeah?”

He had helped her into the bathroom – rather reluctantly – and now she needs help to actually get out of the bathtub. She feels almost sorry for him. 

“I can’t get up.”

Silence, again.

The Archer stares at her for a moment, and she is certain she sees disbelief and surprise alternate on his face. She is almost certain she can hear him blush, and she sees him bite the inside of his cheek, as he glances down, and she has to stifle her laughter, because she know what he’s thinking and that he has never had any problems in ‘getting it up’; not while she has been around him.

He shifts from foot to foot, slightly tilting his head and asks with an incredulous voice, “Ya done?” and his eyebrow arches, and again Beth knows he doesn’t believe she is done. She’s not, that’s for certain, but the only thing to do right now with a sore back and aching muscles is to shower and just curl on the large bed in the bedroom and just maybe sleep the aches away. 

Truthfully she had expected to spend longer period in the bath tub and soak her aching muscles, but as it had turned out she could hardly find a suitable position to sit on diminishing the power of relaxation.

“What’s the point? Can’t sit this way or that way,” she says, gesturing with her hands from left to right, “Just please, help me up, and I’ll get to washing myself,” she sighs.

Daryl enters the bathroom, closing the door, and padding closer to the tub. She hasn’t stopped to amaze how he can move nearly silently and always surprise her by doing so. Even seeing him do it is something of an experience. 

She lifts her arms up, looking up at him trusting, and watches him chew the inside of his left cheek, as he stares down at her. In all honesty she must look like she is some kind of a wild child. She knows her hair is absolutely horribly dirty and probably matted as hell too. Little tendrils of the curls that hang down from the loose bun she has gathered atop of her head dripping water, curling with a will of their own. Her cheeks are almost violently blushing by now, and she just wants to ask him what is he doing.

“Ya ain’t done,” he says gruffly, giving her once over, answering her question before she can even ask it.

“Yes, I know that, Daryl, but like I said I can’t sit in here,” Beth sighed and reiterated. With that, she reaches her arms up again, wiggling her hands in a motion that invited someone in for a hug, and waits for Daryl to help her up. But the help never comes.

“Daryl? You need to help me up,” she frowns a little, her eyes wide in confusion.

Instead of complying, Daryl chews his lip, and turns around swiftly, shrugging the angel wing vest down from his shoulders and then quickly unbuttoning his sleeveless shirt, tossing them both on top of the hamper in the corner of the bathroom. She tilts her head ever so slightly, curiosity peaking and she smiles at Daryl. Her cheeks feel hot, but truthfully she never gets tired of watching the man taking off his clothes, but honestly, he’s never been afraid that his clothes might suddenly get wet or dirty. If Beth can remember correctly, Daryl had told her how he’d slept in a muddy and wet ditch one night a long while back, and he hadn’t been taking off his clothes for that either. 

“Um… What are you doing?” she inquires softly, watching his every movement.

She sees him frown at her question, “’m helpin’ ya out,” he answers with a low, raspy voice, and before she can actually wrap her mind around what he had just said, she witnesses him quickly unbuckling his belt and unbutton his jeans, and then shimmy them down in one fluid motion. She hears herself gasp out loud when she realizes – yet again – that Daryl Fucking Dixon is running around commando underneath his jeans, and a wave of delicious heat flushes over her entire body. And much to her delight Daryl’s ears slowly turn red as well, and slight flustered hue of red dances on his cheeks when he realizes what she just thought of.

“Oh,” is all she manages to utter out loud.

Again she finds herself completely unable to stop herself as she can’t help herself from admiring the toned body of the Archer, and how his tanned skin defined every nook and contour of his muscles perfectly.

The heat wave that had been lingering on top of them for several weeks now, was tiring everyone out and it was practically impossible to do anything without breaking out in sweat, and as such, it had brought a familiar sheen layer of sweat on Daryl’s tanned skin from just taking his clothes off. But that just worked for Beth in ways she didn’t thing was possible. She swallows and brings her palm against her heated cheek, sighing a little when Daryl’s lips curl into an almost devious little smirk. She knows perfectly well that he knows what kind of an effect he had on her. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth she chews it gently, quickly feeling how the sensitive flesh begins to tingle, and swell up.

“Daryl?” she scolds him gently, her breathing hitching into her throat, when she grants him a shy, yet agreeing, little smile, “Mmhmm, this is exactly what got us into this mess in the first place,” she adds, still smiling, and shifting in the bath tub just a little. 

“Ya, I know,” he grumbles, shrugging like he doesn’t care.

And Beth is certain he doesn’t care. He stands there, ears red, and stares down at her and her body with a surprisingly smug expression on his face, which just makes her shudder out of anticipation. 

“Scoot,” he growls a fairly gentle command, and she does as she’s asked, pulling her feet closer to her chest to allow Daryl to find standing inside of the tub.

He reaches across Beth to get the bath glove from the edge of the tub. He stares at it for a moment, as if to figure out what it really is, and then slides it on himself, and then immersing his hand into the tub, frustratingly just beyond Beth’s reach, to get the glove warm and wet. 

“Sit,” he barks another order, as she tries to shift closer, and grabs the raspberry and vanilla scented soap, making a face at it. Beth giggles at the face. She knows he loves that scent on her skin, but on himself? He’s told her several times over how he feels like a damn fruit punch if he uses it on himself. 

“Yes, Sir, Mister Dixon,” she sighs and giggles, and watching intently as he applies some soap on the glove and reaches over to take a hold of her right hand. She closes her eyes, feeling the gentle caresses moving slowly from her wrist, and up to her arm, and to her shoulder. With an intentionally slow method he keeps going, pulls her closer. Rubbing her shoulders, her back, and her sides with his bare hand and with the bath glove, each movement sends waves of pleasure into her sore muscles. It is both invigorating and calming, stimulating and reassuring, and she doesn’t know how he does it, and how he is so good to her. But this time, she is the one who doesn’t care. All she cares is that he is here and he is with her.

He grumbles something under his breath, and it’s possibly something she doesn’t even need to understand. He makes her giggle, when he pushes her onto the other side of the small tub, and pulls in her legs, going up and down on each shin and thigh and even goes meticulously through her wiggling toes.

Beth sighs contently when she feels him kissing the pad of her foot and then his scruff is rubbing against her left shin, he grins and nibbles her ankle and nearly gets her heel in his eye. Strong fingers and the bath glove massage her legs up and down, and Beth leans back in the tub closing her eyes and allowing him do as he pleased.

The bathroom’s filled with steam, the eucalyptus scent is slowly lulling her into a trance and Daryl’s hands work miracles on her body. She doesn’t even realize, until she’s already being pulled flush against his body that he’s wrapped his arms and legs around her, and her back presses onto his chest. She looks over her shoulder, tilts her head up to look at his face. She can’t help but feel protected, secure and relaxed as he cradles her in his arms, and give her some much needed support. 

The feeling of sheer relaxation finally creeps into her weary muscles and make Beth closes her eyes, even though she tries to fight against the drowsiness. She feels him grumbling something, the sound of his voice resonates in his chest, but she can’t make out the words. Her head rests peacefully against the bare skin as she snuggles closer. Her own hands wrap around his bicep, head resting against his shoulder, while her cheek and lips grazes against the tattoo he had there. 

Daryl shifts, slightly adjusting himself, and ever so gently allowing his hands travel up and down her body without the wash glove. His left hand moves up, cradling her head, and his fingers entwine into her hair. Slowly he tries to brush his fingers through her hair, but an unexpected knot stops the motion, and makes her cringe. Mumbling out an apology, he goes to untangle his fingers from her hair. 

“Messy,” he bites out, and draws a slight chuckle out of her. 

“Just leave it, silly,” Beth murmurs, and wiggles against Daryl, “I just want to enjoy this for a while. Please?”

She feels him nod, and just wrap his arms around her upper body, and she giggles slightly more, letting go of his bicep. His knees are above the water, and she lets her fingers travel idly over them, while she inclines into him more, and after a while he too lets his hands wander some more. She smiles a little, thinking that they are like two people dying of thirst; they can’t get enough of each others bodies. 

He keeps his cheeks pressed against her head, his nose being tickled by the soft, blonde curls; and for a while they sit like that, just holding each other, Daryl more than Beth, but he doesn’t mind, because she is the reason he keeps breathing.

“Here,” he grumbles all of a sudden, and sits up a little, reaching for a bottle from the edge of the tub. He frowns at the plastic, pink bottle, but proceeds anyway, flicking the lid open with his thumb. Beth’s sleepy eyes focus onto his hands, and at the task he’s proceeding with. She watches him tilt the bottle and pour some of the strawberry-coconut scented thick pink liquid onto his palm and the discards the bottle back on the edge.

She frowns a little, just a little, and feels him pull the clip that is holding her hair up in a messy bun off, and allowing the golden, blonde mass of curls fall down over her shoulders and into the water. Her hair soaks up with the water, and he gathers them into his big hand and then slowly begins to massage the shampoo onto the soft tendrils. She lets out a tiny little mewl, her back arching when his fingers knead into her scalp, unhurriedly lathering the shampoo and occasionally scooping some water from the tub. 

Her stomach clenches a little, feeling of utter pleasure spreading across her entire body, before settling between her milky thighs. Her fingers clamping tightly around his knees, she hears him chuckle a little without breaking the pace of the massage. He watches in amazement how her body reacts, filing the idea into the secret little box he has in his mind about Beth, because it is too beautiful and he can’t stop staring. Her perky ass grinding ever so softly against his already hardening cock and he tries his best to focus at the task at hand. He wants nothing but make her feel good, even in the expense of his own pleasure. But then he remembers how good it makes himself feel when she is writhing in ecstasy underneath him. He grins and continues.

The shampoo foam builds up, and trickles down her slender neck, and drops down onto her shoulders before dissolving into the water that now barely reaches on their waists. Daryl’s fingers rub her scalp, and her eyes flutter shut. A content, satisfied smile lingers on her lips. She feels his hands sliding down; down her neck, shoulders and arms. She waits, thinking about what he’s about to do next. 

Daryl brushes his hair aside, and leans over to kiss her neck. Beth tilts her head, because there is nothing better in the whole world that the feeling of his mouth on her skin. She feels him sucking a particularly sensitive spot, beneath her ear, his tongue lashing over the place he just nibbled, and his hand teasing, and stroking her jaw line slowly. She squirms a little, twisting and tilting her body more towards him. The tub is too small, but she doesn’t really care. She feels the foam from the shampoo slowly gliding down her back, but she doesn’t care. Daryl’s mouth is doing amazing things on her neck and the gentle buzz he created by lathering shampoo on her hair is making her weak. 

His hands escape down her body, fingers dig into her hips and still her movement, and she stops immediately. His hand skims over her thigh, and fingers hook underneath her knee, only to lift her foot up and gently place it down onto his knee and the edge of the tub. Her left knee curls further towards her chest.

She watches, or tries to, while Daryl continues to nibble and lick and tease and kiss her neck, as his right hand moves ever so slowly over her skin, drawing intricate designs on her inner thigh. Her hips buck up from the bottom of the tub, and she lets out a tiny whimper, watching his hand disappear underneath the water and bubbles. Anticipation’s building up to be too much to bear, and she can’t wait. His thumb rubs circles, and his index and middle finger tiptoe – yes, they tiptoe – slowly and teasingly towards the throbbing center of hers.

He chuckles, but she doesn’t hear it, she only feels it, because there’s way too much blood rushing in her ears, she can’t hear the water splashing, she can’t her him speak to her, all she hears is her own heartbeat and blood thumbing and roaring through her body, and the feeling of his fingers teasing her inner thigh and she whines out loud.

She draws in a deep, shaky breath when he slowly let his fingers touch the burning skin on her stomach, just above the soft and irrefutably wet curls. Beth’s eyes snap open, and she clutches his thighs, making him hiss out of the sharp pain her fingernails cause by digging in. Shaking her head she bites her lip, and whimpers out of sheer desperation and from the heat that creeps into every muscle and cell of her being, and finally twisting inside her stomach. He growls, pleased that he was the one that draw that reaction out of her, and she feels that rumble, that growl so deep inside her that she doesn’t think she can function anymore. He tilts head again, but instead of attacking her neck, or allowing his fingers to move on, he makes her lean back, and she looks up into his eyes, as his eyebrows furrow a little again, and he reaches to pick up the showerhead. 

She knows he’s never been good with words, and she knows he struggles even with the most trusted people in his life. So his actions are the thing that speaks for him. So this, never mind how girly it seems like, washing her whole body, and her hair, is a declaration of devoted love from him, and it is the sweetest, most considerate thing he’s ever done for her. She doesn’t care how many times he’s been protective over her, she doesn’t care how many times he’s fucked her silly, and she certainly doesn’t care how many times he’s brought her things she needs no matter how embarrassing it is for him to go get her tampons. She doesn’t care about flowers and chocolate. This is what she hopes it will be for them, this bond that defies all sanity and all embarrassment. 

He tilts her head back and she closes her eyes before he turns on the shower, and begins to wash off the shampoo froth. Her anticipation grows to new heights while he does that, because his hands, his fingers, his gentle touches feel just too good. 

Her eyes are still closed when she feels him stop, and then the water stops running from the shower head. The only thing she can hear now is the droplets of water dripping down from the wet tendrils of her hair, and water gushing down the sides of the tub and down the drain on the floor. Their breathing is slow, unhasty, relaxed. 

“Clean,” he grumbles, and looks down at Beth, and she smiles back to him radiantly, as he pushes her soaked hair back from her face. She watches him licking his lips, his fingers rubbing the scruff on his chin, and his eyes flicker once on her lips, before he captivates her eyes with his. 

The sparks are practically tangible between them, and she wants to feel that heat and electricity just shatter her whole body because she can’t take it anymore. He sees her eyes twinkling and her cheeks glowing red, and he tilts his head, his long hair falling down, in front of his face, as he dips closer.

The scruff of his beard scratching against her cheek, and jaw line, as he finds an angle where he can give a teasing little nip of a kiss on her slightly swollen lips, and then he begins to trail down her jaw, and neck, down to her shoulder. His beard tickles her milky white, water and soap slick skin and she giggles out loud, bringing her arms around his neck. 

He suddenly goes to lift her up, pulling her back to sit up on his lap. While his hands steady her by her hips, propped against the curve of her ass, he kicks her thighs open with his knees, and makes her squeal out loud from the sudden move. But, she’s hot, and she feels like she’s absolutely simmering deep inside of her. She wants more. She wants more right now. 

Beth looks over her shoulder, their eyes locking and she realizes how dark his eyes have grown, but at the same time she knows there’s same lust reflecting at him in her eyes as well.

“Daryl…” she whispers and bites her bottom lip and tries to stifle a wail that demands to be let out from her lips.

He attacks her mouth hungrily, and his hands maneuver easily up her sides and pull her against his chest. Their kiss deepens rapidly, teeth clashing against each other, Beth wincing a little, before his tongue brushes against her lips, and she feels hers pushing against his, their tongues twining, and dancing against each other. His mouth opens more, his right hand gently but firmly clutching her cheek as if he is afraid that she’d push him away.

She shudders, because she wants more, and not because she is practically sitting in now-cool water in the tub on his lap, above the water, and her wet skin is exposed to the cool temperature of the air in the bathroom. But her skin is on fire and she almost expects to see the water vaporize. Daryl pulls her closer, and she gasps unintentionally when she feels the hardened cock slide over her throbbing clit, slick shaft pressing between the swollen pussy lips. That makes her thighs quiver and her breathing hitch into her throat. She feels him lowering her down, hiking up his knees, and locking her in his lap, and she melts against his chest. Grabbing his wrists, pinning them down against the edges of the tub, she tilts her head and runs her hot tongue against his neck, and then mouthing that one little spot on his neck that makes him growl out loud like he was a wounded and angry bear. Her teeth clash against his skin, and then her lips and tongue soothe the tingly, burning sensation eagerly. 

She feels his hips thrusting up, and with a little giggle she grinds hers in return. He groans, biting out her name breathily, “Beth… _Fuck_!” And they both know it’s not easy to have their way in the tub, but hey are both too heated and too lost in lust to care. So she rocks her hips, if only to hear him groan out loud again, and she keeps sucking and kissing the pulse-point on his neck, slowly traveling up from it, and teething his earlobe quickly before running the tip of her tongue over the bite mark.

“Beth, oh fuck,” he chants, his voice scratchy, as he tilts his head allowing her to do what ever she wants to do with his neck. She brings her own hands to his neck, fingers ghosting over his cheek, and it makes him groan again, his hands traveling up from her hips to cup her perky breasts, his fingers rubbing over the pebble-hard nipples. She loves the way her tits fit into his palms, and she loves the feeling of friction when his fingers gently tease her now overly sensitive nipples. It’s not much, he slides his fingers and palms over them and she feels her body shudder almost violently. He hums approvingly into her skin, the moment he turns his head to nuzzle against her neck. 

She shudders, and shakes her head, and grabs a hold of his hand, and then guides it down over her stomach, “I need it. I need it now,” she whispers into his ear, feels him tense for a second. 

He worships her body, and she loves it, but if he wants to go slow, that’s not for her right now. She wants it - - no, she _needs_ it right now. She needs to come because she’s much too high right now from him and she just needs to come down. 

She mewls out something of a moan, and grinds her hips a little more, feeling Daryl’s cock rubbing delightfully against her, and then his fingers are sliding into her soft, wet folds and she’s violently agreeing that they belong right there as she arches her back and moans out loud. She squeezes her eyes shut and feels the muscles on her legs twitching. Daryl’s fingers are doing something so good as they gather some of the slickness, and then tease and dance over her clit, that she whines out loud. He keeps licking her neck, mouthing, teeth grazing over her skin, soothing and teasing. She feels like she is going insane and yet she eagerly grants access to her neck, while he dips his finger inside of her, and then another, and his thumb – oh God his thumb – plays over her throbbing, aching clit. Her back arches, and her nails rake over what ever piece of skin of his they can find. She’s tense like a string on a guitar, but it’s a good feeling. She whimpers when he pulls his fingers out of her, bringing his hand to his mouth, and pushes those two fingers into his mouth, grinning, “So good,” he growls, and she whines out loud.

“Daryl, _please_!” she cries out and grinds her hips, his cock rubbing her pussy and her clit. Her little mewling sounds make him chuckle, and he pulls her closer, slightly hiking her up, his hands supporting her by her hips. She makes a little surprised yelp, and quickly claws the air for a moment before she finds the steady surface of the edge of the bath tub.

“Bend your knees,” he barks and order, and she complies immediately.

Her knees bend on either side of his thighs, as she straddles him. His arms flexing and he groans a little as he forces his already somewhat relaxed and rested muscles to work to support her weight – which truthfully isn’t all that much – as they change position. Beth looks over her shoulder and leans forward, biting her bottom lip harder than necessary. Daryl’s hand travels down from her shoulder, over her spine, and gently pushes her forward; as he reaches between them and with an animal like groan he guides his cock between her legs, and against the hot, wet heat of her pussy, and draws out an exasperated and breathy scream of pleasure when he thrusts. She slumps forward, her arms trembling, practically without any muscle strength and he reaches forward to gently pull her closer to him and to watch her back arch, and her head is thrown back and her whole body shudders from the force of each of his thrusts. 

“Oh, God, D-Daryl!” she cries out loud, her mouth gaping open, drawing air into her lungs, that feel like they are burning from the rapid breathing.

Her hips roll, and grind against him, and she feels how each of his thrusts hits deep inside of her, just that sweet spot that makes her turn into a puddle. And she know she’s been teased too long, when she her vision blurs around the edges and black spots dance in her eyes.

She _knows_ she is not going to last very long. And she knows that he knows it too. He mouths his way from her neck, and shoulder down to her back, over her spine. The scruff of his chin scraping her skin, and the hot tongue practically scalding her, but I feels too good, and that’s all she wants to think about right now. 

“Daryl, _please_ … please, I need to come!” she begs, as she whimpers out frustrated.

Daryl’s hands slither under Beth’s arms, and curl around her shoulders to hold her in place, because the ceramic of the tub is slippery, despite the surface of the water has nearly drained. At some point of their escapade they must have kicked the plug off and not even notice it – not until the water was all but drained. 

“Fuck,” Daryl growls, and bites her shoulder, bucking his hips up, “ _Jesusfuck_ , Beth!” he groans, cupping her soft breasts, feeling her hands sliding over his. 

“Fuck me! Harder, please - - I need to come, I can’t…” she babbles, before there is a tiny little gasp that she breathes out huskily. She shudders, and he feels the walls of hers clench around his shaft, and her hips undulate rapidly as she rides his cock faster. Her body begins to convulse as he thrusts into her harder. Daryl rests his forehead against Beth’s back, breathy noises and growls escaping from his throat. She screams out loud, when she begins to feel that she’s drowning into the waves of pleasure, her stomach tightening, and she pulls him with her into the deep darkness of the ocean, as he spills himself inside of her, and they slump onto the bottom of the tub boneless, powerless.

They both try to regain their muscle strength, breathing rapid and lungs aching from the feeling of oxygen deprivation. Beth nuzzles against Daryl. Her mind telling her that they do not need to get up, they do not need to move. 

Daryl recovers faster, like always. He cradles her in his arms and kisses her earlobe, whispering something incoherent in his low tone. His chest rumbles with the words he speaks, but she can’t understand them, so she just smiles a little, and gently pets his arm. 

It takes a while for him to feel comfortable to get up, and with as little disturbance to Beth he stands up from the tub, and reaches for the large towels hanging on the towel rack. 

She giggles a little, when he wraps her into those two large yellow towels, and kisses her forehead. Effortlessly he picks her up, feeling her head resting against his shoulder, as he carries her into the small bedroom of theirs. 

Daryl sits Beth down onto their bed, and slowly and gently dries her up with the towels, and chuckles a little at the sleepy face she’s making. 

“Mmhmm,” she hums, “I’m a little Berrito,” she giggles with a tiny voice, and makes him laugh a little bit more. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, “My Berrito.”

She giggles again, allowing him to settle her down onto the bed, tucking her in under the covers, so that only her head is visible. When he’s done with that, he dries himself off, gathers their clothes from the bathroom, and brings them back into their bedroom, not really bothering to sort or fold them out. He closes the door, and climbs into the bed with her, pulls her into him and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, yeah. This was supposed to be Brickyl at first. But then I changed my mind. And it was supposed to be something else altogether but I changed my mind AGAIN. And that's why this is late from that Bethyl Smut Week. I rewrote this twice, basically.
> 
> Also, this can work either as ZA fic or Non-ZA fic. The reader can decide.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think!


End file.
